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| ❛ C H A P T E R N I N E ❜ |
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A few days had passed since the hike with Kieran, and life had resumed its usual rhythm. The days felt lighter, though, as if the weight of the past had started to fade. James had been spending more time with Ruby, and to my surprise, he confided in me during one of our conversations that he might actually have feelings for her.

"I know it's weird," he had said, running a hand through his hair. "But Ruby... she's different. I think I like her, Aurora. Like, really like her."

I'd smiled at him, seeing a softer side of James that he rarely let anyone see. "It's not weird, James. If you like her, just go for it. She's been good for you."

Now, as we sat in my room getting ready for Cyril's party, James was rummaging through his bag for a shirt that he had insisted would go perfectly with his look.

"Are you seriously wearing that?" I teased, glancing at his outfit.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, holding up a black button-down.

"Nothing, except you wore almost the same thing to the last party."

James rolled his eyes but grinned. "Well, if it works, it works." He leaned back on my bed and glanced at me as I adjusted my earrings. "So... did you invite Kieran?"

I shot him a look in the mirror. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Just checking," James said with a smirk. "You two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"Is that a problem?" I asked, turning to face him, a teasing lilt in my voice.

"Nope, not at all," he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "I just think it's cute, that's all."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my clutch from the dresser. "Let's go before Cyril starts calling me to ask where we are. He said the party starts at eight."

"Relax, Rory," James said, standing up and throwing on his jacket. "We'll make an entrance. Besides, everyone knows Cyril's parties don't really kick off until later."

We headed downstairs, where my dad was sitting in the living room reading. He looked up as we passed. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," I said. "Cyril's throwing a party."

"Be careful," he said, his tone light but with a hint of fatherly warning.

"We will," James replied with a grin, always charming when it came to my dad.

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit us. My driver was waiting by the car, and James immediately started humming a tune as we got in.

The car ride to Cyril's house was filled with James's usual antics. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his leg, humming a tune that was just barely recognizable. Every now and then, he'd glance over at me with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to get a reaction.

"You seem oddly cheerful," I remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't I be? It's a party, Aurora. We're supposed to be cheerful," he replied, dramatically throwing an arm over the back of his seat. "Besides, Cyril always puts on a good show."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you still hang out with me," he quipped, pretending to be offended.

I rolled my eyes, my gaze drifting to the window as the city lights blurred past.

"So," James said, breaking the silence, "do you think tonight will be as dramatic as Cyril's last party? Because I am not mentally prepared for another dance-off disaster."

I laughed at the memory of Cyril's last attempt to host a "talent showcase," which had ended with three spilled drinks and someone falling into a sound system. "Let's hope not. But with Cyril, you never know."

James grinned. "You're right. Chaos is part of his brand."

As we pulled up to Cyril's house, the sound of music was already pulsing through the air. His house was decked out in string lights, and people were scattered across the front yard, laughing and talking.

James leaned forward, peering out the window. "Looks like it's already packed. Good thing we're fashionably late."

The car came to a stop, and my driver opened the door for me. I stepped out, smoothing down my dress as James followed.

"Ready to make an entrance?" he asked, offering me his arm in an exaggerated gesture.

I rolled my eyes but looped my arm through his, playing along. "Let's do this."

As we approached the front door, the noise grew louder, and the scent of Cyril's signature cologne—something overpoweringly citrusy—wafted out. Inside, the house was filled with people, the atmosphere buzzing with energy.

We hadn't even made it to the living room when I spotted Kieran near the back of the room, casually leaning against a wall with a drink in hand. His eyes met mine almost immediately, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

James nudged me with his elbow. "Go say hi," he said under his breath.

"I will," I replied, trying to sound indifferent even as my heart raced.

Before I could make my way over, Cyril appeared out of nowhere, throwing an arm around James. "You made it!" Cyril exclaimed, his energy as chaotic as ever.

James grinned. "Wouldn't miss it. Nice turnout, by the way."

"Of course," Cyril said, puffing out his chest. "I always deliver. Drinks are in the kitchen, snacks are by the patio, and the dance floor is wherever you make it."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Classic Cyril."

Cyril's gaze shifted to me, his grin widening. "Aurora! Looking stunning as always. By the way, you're obligated to dance tonight. No excuses."

"Noted," I said, giving him a mock salute.

He nodded approvingly before dragging James off to "meet someone," leaving me to navigate the crowd.

I glanced back toward where Kieran had been standing, only to find him now making his way toward me.

"Hey," he said as he reached me, his smile easy and genuine.

"Hey yourself," I replied, feeling my nerves settle slightly in his presence.

"You look amazing," he said, his gaze lingering for just a moment before meeting mine again.

"Thanks," I said, heat creeping up my neck. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

Kieran's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and he looked down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. "Thank you," he said shyly, his voice quieter than usual.

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. Seeing him like this—so uncharacteristically bashful—was endearing.

He cleared his throat and gestured toward the kitchen. "Do you, uh, want to grab a drink or something?"

"Sure," I said, feeling a flutter of warmth at his nervousness.

He stepped aside, letting me lead the way. The kitchen was bustling with people, but Kieran stayed close by. We reached the counter where an assortment of drinks was laid out, and he picked up two cups, handing one to me.

"Non-alcoholic," he said with a smirk. "I wasn't sure if you were in the mood for anything stronger."

I laughed softly, taking the cup from him. "This is perfect, thanks."

Kieran leaned against the counter, glancing around the room before his eyes settled on me again. "So, how often do you come to Cyril's parties?"

"Not that often, honestly," I admitted. "Cyril's great, but I'm not much of a party person."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up in a playful smile. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed that."

"Why not?" I asked, tilting my head curiously.

"You seem... I don't know, comfortable in crowds." he said, shrugging. "I figured this would be your scene."

I smiled, swirling the drink in my cup. "Maybe I'm just good at pretending."

"Or maybe you're just good at everything," he said before quickly realizing what he'd said. His face flushed again, and he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, you seem like you're good at everything—not that I'm, you know, assuming or anything."

I bit back a laugh, appreciating his effort to recover. "Thanks, I guess? But I promise, I'm not as put together as you think."

"Could've fooled me," he said, his tone lighter now.

For a moment, we stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. The energy between us felt easy and natural, yet there was an undercurrent of something... more.

"Do you want to go outside for a bit?" Kieran asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the din. "It's a little loud in here."

I nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Yeah, let's go."

He led the way through the crowd, his hand brushing mine as we maneuvered past clusters of people. When we finally stepped onto the back patio, the air was crisp and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

The patio overlooked a sprawling garden lit by string lights, and the faint sound of music drifted through the open doors. Kieran leaned against the railing, and I joined him, sipping from my cup.

"This is nice," I said, letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking at me instead of the view. "Much better out here."

I met his gaze, feeling the corners of my mouth lift. "Are you always this smooth?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even close. You just... I don't know. You make it easy to talk to you."

𖦹 !! ꒰ 09 ꒱ ᯓ 🌤️